Somewhere
by aquintosh
Summary: We all know the upbringing of Harry. I want to go on a different road with it. Harry is not able to cope with the loneliness and treatment of his " family", so he looks for other means to escape. But fleeing always come with a price.


**The master of illusions...**

I sat on the floor of "my" cupboard and wondered what did I do in my past life to bring the wrath of gods upon me in such way. They weren't merciful, they weren't good to me at all. They were not my parents. And they clearly showed it to me.

I was alone in the darkness surrounding me. I liked it here, to be honest. I preferred being alone, not sure why people would be so afraid of it. You don't have to mind your attitude, accept conventional emotions and expected behaviour patterns. Mainly, you don't have to pretend to be someone else that you are not. You can be just yourself. Yourself... But who's this "yourself" really? Rhetorical question, because not even the self knows the answer. Shame...

I lied, when I said that I liked being alone. Nobody does. Not even you. I hate it in fact. I feel no purpose to my existance if it can't be proven by someone else that I am here. Cause nobody notices. Not when you cry, not when you feel down, hitting the floor, not when you laugh freely.

I felt caged. I wanted to stretch my wings, to interact, to feel alive somehow. I willed to create something meaningful in the darkness. I searched for a mean, a mean that could help me fulfill my impossible desire: to never be alone. The irony...

Then it happened. The lights seemt to flow out of my veins, out of the centre of my palms, illuminating the black room. It was a wonderful sight to behold. I felt excited as the lights took shape, morphing like clouds in the sky, forming into something I didn't want to believe. It was a little girl. The first creation of my subconscious. She appeared older than me, but her face looked as youthful as mine.

I knew she would accept me. And I was sure if I could create such masterpiece, then i could have as many friends as I desired. In my mind at least...Although they hated me for what I am and I could blame the entire humanity for it, I just had to have an emotion to survive on. Anger drove me, and I welcomed it. I swore revenge on them, because I couldn't accept their imperfections, I was young and impatient. Very suspectible to circumstances.

I didn't want pity, wasted energy... I wanted pure emotions, which are forged in the pits of your heart. Chemical reactions, that aren't altered, tempered with when cause, purpose enters the game of play.

First I recreated anger with little girl hissed and dissapitated into the air in a show of small fireflys. Everything comes with a price. The energy toke its toll on me. I was alone again. It was choking me, gripping harder and harder. I wanted to see her again. Lily...

Yes, Lily... I remembered. That was her name. It came deep from my hazy aloud again, it sounded so familiar to me, as if I knew somebody with this name. Sweetness coated my tounge. Just a name, a seemingly insignificant thing made me feel like home. She smiled at me with white tooth, missing one here and there. She was so cute and huggable. I chuckled sadly as my hand swept through her transparent body. Mother...

She came back to haunt me. But her presence was comforting. It bugged me a little that I couldn't reach her. She felt so close and still far away. But I knew one day I would meet her. Till then I had to cope with this afterimage of her.

That's the main problem of a creature. They can never be, doesn' t matter how alike they may appear with its original, the real one. Just a medicine, a sour placebo for the time being. And the more the time passes the more you crave from it. In the end, you get caught in your little scheme of webs and you can never get out. That's the problem with illusions.

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I stood there and watched myself in the reflection of the window illuminated by the nearby lampposts frickeling light. I was proud of myself. Of making a friend today. The disturbing thoughts of past seemt to ebb away in hurry. I felt at ease. What I had lost within these walls of existance, I may have taken a little piece back that time. At least a didn't dream about darkness darker than black. But I knew my consolation wasn't meant to be, that it wouldn't last. When I tiredly closed my eyes that day in my cupboard, I had dreams of betrayal in my lilys smile.

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Next time I met Tom. He seemt to be around the same age as me. He was all adorable and charming. The kind of child, who could persuade you to kill someone with a bright smile plastered on his face. Dangerous, murderer behind shadows. Although he had scary eyes, I still considered him a friend. I knew he wouldn't harm me. We were too alike from the start till the end, I guess.

His illusion or manifestation didn't last long though. I quickly ran out of energy. I was still too young. "Magic" took its toll upon me very fast. Therefore I decided to practice more and more, in order to meet them again and again, forever...What a fool I was. Didn't know anything. If I had, I might have chosen another path in my life. Or not. Just kidding. I had to find a way out from those days, an escape from reality not to go mad. Entirely... In the end I am not regretful about it. Not worth dwelling too much on the past, cause it's the past.

As months passed by, I began to get used to conjuring bodies of my "friends", as I called them. They accompinied me through my years. Sometimes Tom would just creepily whisper to me as if he knew something I didn't : "you will die soon, you will die, soon". And I felt some sort of certanity in his words. Like it was the truth. So I just replied : "I know, I know it the best, tom..." The idea of death didn't bother me as much as this living hell. I think people fear it, cause they fear the unknown. Its nothing to be scared of to be honest. You are scared biologically till your body functions, it's just natural. Your brain can't override that fear or with only very much discipline. But when you are a dead, you don't feel anything. You don't have the worries that you had before. You cease to exist, your brain and heart stops working. You will have nothing at all, just peace you don't know of anymore. I find it calming to think this way. I feel that death is absoluteness, the absolute judgement, because there is no inequality in death. I am glad if I think about it, that in the end it doesn't even matter, how much money you made, how much power you have on Earth, how much you have suffered. Although you can try to run from it, but you will face Death one day. You have to accept it. You may find it hard at first, cause no living thing can take lightly its end. We are all organisms, thriving to survive. The fundamental instincts encoded in our DNS shrieking into our ears: "I don't want to die, i don't want to die, please let me live one more day!' But humans are allegedly better than animals, so we can rationalize. That's why self- control is inevatible to accepting death.

And when you do, you see the world in a new light or monochromo way. You find the lights brighter, the darkness warmer. You just learn to appreciate things just being as they are. Your mere tiny existence, if you really exist at all, will be taken care of my Earth after you are gone. You go back to the fountain, to earth itself when your flesh and bones decay over time.

I have never believed in after life. It's just a dream. An illusion of fools. The wish of unsatisfied people to hope for something better they couldn't achieve on Earth, blaming their bad luck. I believe in 2 sayings: Life is what you make it out to be and Heaven cannot be found up there, but in yourself.

YOU have to make yourself at peace, to achieve harmony with yourself, your feelings, hopes, circumstances, enviroment. Its very, very hard and demanding job, so to speak. The enviroment can add plus burdens to its process, but in the end it's just all about your deceivness. I think our destiny is predestined. We have the road paved ahead of us, that we can't change. Cause with beginnings we know its end, destruction, death. You would say, that I don't believe that I don't make choices. It is just an illusion. The illusion of freedom, that we can't hope to achieve as long as we are humans, like perfectness. It's in front of us out in the horizon, but it's so far away, that it just doesn't seem real. To be free in a humans life means to make a choice that was already made for us. We may choose what option we want to go with, but in our hearts we know that there is no choice. It may seem infinite, an endless range of causes. All is numbered in fact, not in a human perspective: we are too young to appraise this galaxy in its whole. That's why it may seem infinite, cause we can't see the end. But it is only for us. It is limited as our body, as our will and as our existence. Omega isn't meant to be grasped, it's not for us, humans. It never was, cause this is not what life is about. Our life is about acceptence, that we get to live for a short span of time, and we get to make the best out of it. That is all it is about. So live so that you don't regret. If at the end of your life you can think back on it as it was truly nice to be here. Then you have achieved what you were here for. And you should be proud of yourself.

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As the years passed by, I realized that nothing came without a price. Not magic, not illusions. My cost of having "friends" resulted in accelerating my aging process. When i get 17, my body will be dying. I often felt my hands getting a little weary. The first symptoms came when i got 8 years old. My hands started to become wrinkled. I didn't really to it, but later all my bodyparts showed, that they are aging at a much faster rate, than it's normal. Illusions take a great toll on the body, cause the brain is supposed ot create something real, which is impossible, but it tries at least. But I never wanted to give up illusions. They became an essential part in my life. I couldn't give them up, no matter what.

Life went usual at Private Drive Number 4. I wouldn't bore you with the description of this neighbourhood, you know it already. Nobody knew about the 4. resident of this house, who he really is. Nobody saw his face. It's as if he was a ghost himself. A ghost of the past.

One day letters came for him. It stated that he can attend a school of wizardry, which he took as a joke. Dudley used to make such jokes. But nowadays they didn't bother him, cause he was stealthing himself with the aid of his "skills". To the toilet, to the kitchen he went unseen. It required to broaden the limits of his senses, to know exactly where his opponents were, and to dodge their incoming. It sounds a little bit morbid, but it was so. Somewhere around the end of summer, somebody came for him. A big olaf, called Hagrid. It's not like he wasn't kind, but he was too trusting and dumb. But he liked these kind of people. They didn't require much attention, didn't ask unnecessary questions.

He told him, that his parents were wizards. That they would be happy to see him so grown up. But he didn't really care about that. He knew about his parents. He knew everything. His memory was so, that he couldn't erase anything. Each smell, each touch were engraved into his memory. He watched as his mother and father died to an artifical fire after being tortured for hours by black hooded people. They were real and vivid, often inspected by him.

The time flew slower for him. His brain was always in 80 % use, that's why everything seemed to be in slow motion. It was both a curse and blessing. He watched unnoticable mimics on faces, little smiles on faces and the dawn, as colours danced on the rim of the sky, as they morphed into each other. It was nice.

To be continued..

I don't own anything belonging to Harry Potter.


End file.
